Circumscribed
by Nyah
Summary: . "Today's story is about me and that's why I'm not going to tell it." Angela lets someone else narrate "The Witch in the Wardrobe." She hopes you'll be kind to him.


**Fandom: **Bones

**Disclaimer:** The parts and the sum and the whole of the thing belong to Fox and Mr. Hanson.

**Summary: **The latest in my series of Ange-caps. Ange lets someone else narrate "The Witch in the Wardrobe." She hopes you'll be kind to him.

**Characters:** Booth/Brennan, Angela/Hodgins

**Spoilers/Warnings:** Through ep. 104 "The Witch in the Wardrobe."

**Rating: **PG

**Note: **It occurs to me that it might make sense for me to format all these little Ange-caps as a multi-chapter "story" instead of new stories each time so anyone reading can get to them in order. Any thoughts?

**Circumscribed**

Today's story is about magic and memories. It's about understanding who we were without forgetting who we've become as a result. It's about crushed hearts and shriveled shoes and the things you find in rye flour.

It's also about me. And that's why I'm not going to tell it.

Narrators don't exactly have a reputation for being the most reliable people ever. It's not like I'd go all _Fight Club _on you or pull a Verbal Kent but I don't quite trust myself to tell this one straight. Plus, I deserve a honeymoon. So I'm calling in a pinch hitter. (See, I can do baseball metaphors too.)

And he's a little nervous guys. (He says he's not, which is cute, but _please_.) So be kind ….

Yeah. Okay. Special Agent Seeley Booth, here. I'll be your narrator today so please everyone just keep your arms and legs inside the cart. I've been expressly forbidden to return any of you ... damaged. I'm going to start at the beginning because I'm new at this whole god-like narrator gig so we'll hold off on the bag of tricks for a little while. Plus, the beginning's a perfectly good place to start. Maybe Quentin Tarantino doesn't think so but plenty of people start with beginnings. Like God, for instance. You know, "In the Beginning there was …." Right?

The the first thing was we had to make the drive up to Carroll County, Maryland to examine the crime scene. Now I don't know if anyone's familiar with the area but if there's a good way to navigate the place that doesn't involved one narrow, windy back road or another we didn't know it and neither did Bones's GPS. So we spent a good amount of time navigating roads dark in the middle of the day because the trees on either side grew so thick they grew together like a roofs. Parker calls them tree tunnels. I call them kind of creepy.

Bones and I spent a good portion of the ride talking vitamins. See, I started taking a daily supplement. I figure, if I'm going to have a job with an increased chance of getting shot or kidnapped or whatever, the least I can do to stay healthy for my kid is not be vitamin deficient.

Bones didn't agree. Big surprise. "You should eat a variety of foods to ensure adequate vitamin intake naturally," she said. "Besides, supplementing the water-soluble C and B-complex vitamins is useless. It just makes you produce costly urine."

I laughed. I was driving around with the best forensic anthropologist in the world and we were talking about pee. It wasn't exactly surprising but it was funny. "Catherine said the same same thing. Except she put it, 'You might as well just pour those straight into the toilet.'"

"What a vivid response," Bones said, not laughing. Oops.

Okay. Sorry. I'm getting a really powerful evil eye from Angela over there so I guess I should try to stay on topic rather than the, um, opposite. But I should tell you (courtesy of Bones) that if eating polar bear liver is on your list of things to do before you die, better make it the last one. Something about Vitamin Some-letter in toxic amounts.

Moving on.

We went from vitamins to talking about whether or not people can be good on their own. Which, looking back, is kind of an intense switch. Bones doesn't think they can be good on their own. I think they can. Some can, anyway.

Some can't.

In this job, I've met both kinds.

This job is all about extremes. I guess you probably figured that out if you've been paying attention. But maybe not. I'll admit I didn't really expect it when I signed on. I figured on the way you have coax and charm information out of a grieving mother and then flip a few hours later to being hard and merciless enough to scare a confession out of a killer. That's part of the draw of the job. Not the grieving parent part, of course, but knowing how to handle anyone in any situation. There's skill there, deftness and finesse and all that.

But hey, is a guy really supposed to expect glowing bones and skeletons in space ships and JFK? I think it's safe to say those kinds of things qualify as extremes. And you never really get used to that.

So it's me and Bones picking through the burnt out foundation of a witch's house. Well, she's picking, I'm stepping carefully and trying not to touch anything that could possibly be useful to any of the squints. During a case pretty much anything in a mile radius of the homicide falls into her territory. (Except the people, that's where I come in.) Plus, Cam sent Hodgins and Angela along with us and Hodgins is even worse than Bones about little specs of stuff. He gets as excited about threads and crumbs and most guys do about strip clubs or the Super Bowl. He almost got himself blown up over a piece of bumper sticker.

Yeah, like I said, extremes.

Bones is checking out the skeleton of a woman in a wedding dress whose hanging in a wardrobe. How's that for a tongue twister, huh?

"Oh!" she says. And I already know it's not good. She's not the kind of person you want to surprise. It tends to end in broken bones or crushed organs. Turns out someone strung the skeleton back together. But the thing that gets to Bones is that they did it _badly_.

Angela calls us over to point out the path Hodgins noticed. That one we all had to carefully step over to get into the house. Also, Angela noticed that it's a circle.

To be honest, I'm not sure why Cam sent Hodgins and Angela up here. We've shipped whole lakes to the Jeffersonian for Hodgins to analyze so what's a burnt up house? And Ange? I really respect Angela, I do. She does things with computers I didn't think were possible. Some of the things she does make me wonder why I don't have a flying car or an anti-gravity machine. But here? Now? I mean my kid knows what circles are.

Sorry Angela, but you might as well wait in the Prius. No offense. Sometimes I feel that way around the squints too.

Anyway, there's a second body. It has red shoes and shrinking ankles and is definitely kind of fresh so it all goes back to the Jeffersonian.

In the lab, Clark gives Bones the run down on what he and Hodgins have figured out so far. And I always kind of wonder what Bones is doing while her interns are arranging the bodies and having chats with Hodgins. They always seem to know all kind of stuff before she's even had a chance to put her gloves on.

The squints do their science thing and come to the conclusion that the old lady in the dress was a witch. I guess the creepy old house and red shoes didn't tip them off.

A couple hours later we find out that maybe sending Angela to the Prius wasn't such a good idea. Though, it's Hodgins driving the Prius like a jackass that gets them into trouble. Granted, the guy was busy turning on the charm which he's not bad at for someone who can go weird and angry when you least expect it.

So sheriff Gus pulls them over (either for swerving or for driving like five miles per hour) and he doesn't even give them a break for driving a Prius, a car that's a responsible environmental choice. Come one, it's a Prius, man. Smart and not as ugly as it could be. A Prius!

I'm getting another look from Angela. Probably for saying "Prius" too much. But I'm just trying to help her out. Fill whatever quota needs filling so she won't feel compelled to advertise anything any time soon. Maybe I don't pull it off as well as she does. Oh well. I tried.

The sheriff is unimpressed by the Prius, Hodgins's 'tude, and Angela's flirting. He doesn't even care that they're here as part of a murder investigation. So it's into the holding cell they go.

And that's why I'm always the driver.

Bones and I (markedly not incarcerated) talk to Sweets about witches, I get some face time with the younger witch's brother, and Clark melts some plastic in search of the perfect acid.

Yep, like goes on as usual for the rest of us. Which brings me to my theme. Sort of. Angela says this is how this whole things works. I'm here to kind of poke at everything until its had enough and gives up its secrets. Or something like that.

What I remember about English class is that a lot's left up to the guy reading the story. And the thing that's jumping out at me is this whole witch angle. We've got the young one with the red shoes and the old witch in the wardrobe. I know both those stories. The lion's missing from the second one but I'm pretty sure the lion in that story was Jesus and since we're talking spells and murder, I'm okay with leaving Jesus out.

The thing with both stories is they're about what happens when you fall out of sync with the rest of the world. When you get stuck in Oz or inside a wardrobe or in back of nowhere Maryland. And that's exactly where Hodgins and Angela are, pacing the cell waiting on a judge and warrants.

The rest of the world goes on outside. The rest of us deal with the extremes while they sit this one out. I meet a guy convinced a curse made him lose his hair. And that's totally weird but he's probably one of the most convincing and likable guys I've ever met. So definitely not a killer.

Clark and Bones find a bunch of stab marks and Bones finally comes to the conclusion that it shouldn't have taken Hodgins and Angela a whole extra day to get back to DC. Even if the Prius somehow doesn't have solar powered, zero-point energy GPS.

Angela calls from jail and says she's in Barryville, Maryland. Which, incidentally, doesn't exist in Carroll or any other county so she really shouldn't be surprised that no one's come to get her. So they spend a lot of time waiting around and it's kind of like the first therapy sessions Bones and I had with Sweets. It's takes them a while to get bored enough to crack.

What does it is the ache in Angela's shoulders which Hodgins is happy to take care of. Can't really blame him there. Giving a beautiful woman you've been in love with for years a rub down is worth a little jail time. And Angela's really enthusiastic about it. Like, I don't know about all of you, but that was more of their sex life than I ever really needed to see.

Cam takes it pretty well when she shows up. I guess she's playing Glinda the Good Witch. Which means she tells them they just have to stay on the Yellow Brick Road, wait out the judge. I'm trying to be nice to Camille here with the whole Glinda thing but let's be honest, she's about the worst cop in history. I'm pretty sure half of what you learn in police academy is how to work the system and trade favors and keep your people _not in jail._

So Cam books it and Angela and Hodgins are reasonably appalled.

Back outside the wardrobe, Bones and I check out the good witches who are prone to effigy burning and naked dancing and doing things with pentagrams. They also tend to talk in this really snooty, affected way. Strangely enough, that might be the thing that makes it hardest to take them seriously.

Meanwhile, in Oz the magic is finally starting to work. Hodgins and Angela are tossing pennies into a styrofoam cup because time seems to run long here and there's no wishing well in sight. But someone's wish comes true anyway, his or hers, but probably both of theirs. They remember a cold cabin in the mountains that seemed like a good idea at the time. Now they remember it honestly for what it was: cold, dark, and barren. But also, secluded and cozy and picturesque. That's the thing about memories. Pretty crappy things might have seemed bearable when you were in love but they become beautiful when you realize you're still in love.

Gus interrupts their little moment with a look into the outside world where we're all busy analyzing hairs and interrogating spurned husbands and finding bat bones.

Things are a lot more calm in Narnia, despite the steel bars. Hodgins and Angela go in for another round of penny toss and the last wish finally gets them somewhere. That's what Dorothy learned from the ruby slippers—what happens when you wish for something you could have had all along if only you'd let yourself. She says, "Do you ever wonder what happened to us?"

They both remember every word of that conversation. It's like no time has passed at all or they've both spent the time between trying to figure out how it could go so wrong. "It was like we were playing chicken and we both swerved," Angela says. And they laugh because it took another swerve to send them to jail and jail to set them straight. Hodgins says, "We should have crashed into each other."

"At the speed of light."

So they kiss and it works. Everything's different and better except that they're still in jail. So, naturally, that's when the judge shows up to turn them loose. And ain't that how it always goes? You're not ready to leave Oz until you don't want to anymore.

Bones, Sweets, and I connect some dots that lead to the good witch, Ember. Who annoyingly insists on being called Ember. So I ask if we can all, "Step outside her magical little forest for a while." I mean, what does she think this is, a holding cell in Berryville? Then Bones and Sweets talk about circles and how everything inside is usually safe from outside forces and they talk about stab wounds and pentagrams. And all the while Clark can't get a word in edgewise to tell them the witches were all tripping on rye flour.

The witches fess up. They didn't mean any harm after all. They were just trying to contain something within a circle, trying to restore some kind of balance after all that had gone wrong.

Inside the jail cell a wedding is going on. And there's something kind of perfect about it. It doesn't matter that it's a cell or that 'Angela' is not her name. They're here and it's now. None of the rest matters. It's kind of fast and kind of surprising. But only if you're us, looking on from outside the wardrobe. Inside everything is calm and right. Everything happens on its own time which might just be the speed of light.

So that's it. That's all I've got. I don't know what happens outside of Oz or when you step out of the wardrobe. And I guess they don't either. Not yet.

I've spent the story stuck out here in the extremes. Murder and witchcraft and partnership and heartache. I've got no circle of my own where everything's calm and the world's far away and everything works out in the end. I just have a pocketful full of paper dolls and a lighter.

And I have her laugh. So maybe that's something.


End file.
